


The Water Woman’s Pitcher

by Lunarium



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-07 01:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4243899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Young Lobelia seeks the water woman, not heeding the warning spoken across the Shire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Water Woman’s Pitcher

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zdenka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zdenka/gifts).



> Treat for Zdenka, whose prompt was what stories the hobbits of the Shire have about Goldberry.

It was said that after the first rain of spring the River-woman’s daughter would come to the Shire and bless the seeds for the new season; and that hobbits would wake to the fresh first blooms. But the water woman was not to be seen in that moment, or a curse would befall the unfortunate beholder. 

This was merely a lie to Lobelia, who thought it simply a tale to discourage children from interrupting the spirit woman from her work. The thought of Goldberry, as tall as a tree with hair as a golden river, was a sight Lobelia wished to see with her own eyes, and no warning could dissuade her. 

On the morning of the first rain of spring, Lobelia sprung out of her bed right before the sunrise. Opening the window, she breathed in the scent of rain and peered out till her eyes befell a tall figure by a flowerbed two houses down. Gasping, she, still in her nightclothes, sped out of her house. 

There was indeed no curse to speak of, but Lobelia may just as well have been struck, for she could not tear her eyes away from the pitcher in Goldberry’s hands: perfectly formed, silvery blue as the clearest river water, Lobelia’s own reflection on its smooth surface. 

“Yes? How may I help you, sweet child?” said a voice as gentle as early spring, but Lobelia could not find the words to reply. Her eyes strayed back to the pitcher in Goldberry's hands. Chuckling, Goldberry patted her head, amused by the hobbit child, and moved on to the next flower bed, and still Lobelia did not move.

*

She held the spoon close to her eyes. From far away her cousin's spoons had appeared perfect, but now seeing them before her, she could pick out the asymmetry in their forms and smudges on the surface, dull silvery in color and lackluster.

With a sigh she set the spoon back down. She would never find a trinket made of such elegance as the water woman's pitcher.


End file.
